Aversion
by hannah415
Summary: There was the before, and there was the after, but those are never the most important, are they? Jily.
1. Chapter 1: Truth

**Chapter One: Truth. **

Lily Evans woke up on the morning of August the 20th feeling equal parts content and nervous, for reasons she could not yet understand.

The owl had come in the early morning, when she was still asleep. The letter was waiting on the table, significantly heavier than usual. Her mother had not said anything to her when she got up, so she had assumed that it was still not here yet. She walked into the kitchen, stifling a yawn as she opened up the refrigerator, leaning against the door, in search of something to eat.

Grabbing the jug of milk and a bowl from the cupboard, she began to make herself a bowl of cereal, until her eyes darted over to the table. And there, amidst the bills and the wedding magazines and the newspaper, was her letter.

She dropped the milk.

"Lily? What was that?" her mother called from the adjacent room. Lily rushed over to the table, fingering the letter carefully, sighing when she felt its weight.

"Nothing, Mum!" she yelled back.

She tore through the envelope, gingerly taking out the two letters and the badge. She smiled softly at it, the way it gleamed in the early morning light, before setting it aside and opening the first of the letters. It was from McGonagall, informing her of her newly-instated position as Head Girl. She placed the folded parchment next to her badge, unfolding the next letter; her supplies list.

She laughed to herself lightly, touching the badge. Lily glanced down and noticed the spilt milk, however, and quickly reached into her bathrobe and retrieved her wand. With a nonverbal incantation it was wiped up quickly, and just as she had stored her wand back into her robe, the phone beside the fridge rang shrilly.

"Lily, would you get that please?"

"Yes, Mum."

Lily grabbed the phone off its hook. "Hello?" she asked.

"Lily, the letters just came in! I didn't get it, obviously, and neither did Mary – that's a laugh – but I haven't talked to Dorcas or Molly yet, and I just wanted to –"

"Marlene. English, please."

"Right. Okay. Breathe. Okay. Did you get it?"

"Get _what_?"

Marlene scoffed over the phone, as if Lily was being incredibly daft. "_Head Girl_, of course!"

Lily smiled into the phone. She paused a moment, and sighed, "Yes, I did."

A squeal on the other end of the line. "_I knew it! I knew it!_"

Lily laughed. "Thanks, Mar. Do you and Mary want to go get the supplies today? I was planning on calling Alice, and seeing if she was busy today."

"Of course! We'll meet at The Leaky Cauldron at about noon?"

"Sounds good, love."

"Bye." Lily hung up the phone, chuckling to herself as her mother entered the kitchen.

Lily looked at her mother. Grace Evans was a beautiful woman, although life had not treated her kindly. She was in her early fifties, and her face was perhaps a little more creased than the average woman's. Her blonde hair, not unlike her eldest daughter's, was now streaked with grey, and her blue eyes were warm if not a little tired. Lily had inherited her father's green eyes, although her acquirement of the ginger hair has remained a mystery to the Evans family.

Mrs. Evans crossed her arms, leaning against the countertop and cocking her eyebrow at her daughter. "Well?" she asked, smiling when Lily couldn't restrain her smile.

"I got Head Girl," she whispered, handing her mother the letter from Professor McGonagall. Mrs. Evans smiled warmly at her daughter, pecking her on the cheek.

"I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Mum. I'm going out with Marlene and Mary later, alright?"

"Of course, dear."

(Lily)

Lily Evans was of average height and weight. She had vibrant red hair and brilliant green eyes. She was above average, however, in various respects: she was of an unconventional beauty, and she was the top witch in their year, hence her standing as Head Girl. She followed the rules to a T, although she had a strong belief in doing things for the right reasons.

She was well-respected and intelligent, and she tended to put others' needs above her own, even if it was detrimental to herself. She was sweet and she was kind, but she was brave and headstrong, too, because she was not placed into Gryffindor on accident.

Lily Evans was not naïve enough to believe that she could know what true love was at seventeen. She would very soon prove herself wrong.

(The Potters)

It was, for James Potter, an ordinary day.

He had slept in, as he typically did, and his mother had nagged at him to get his arse out of bed and come downstairs for breakfast, as she typically did, and he was finally downstairs, his hair wet from his morning shower. He smiled at one of the house elves, named Honey, who walked towards him nervously, a letter in hand.

"Good morning, Master James," the little elf squeaked, trembling slightly as she handed him the letter.

"Thanks, Honey," he replied casually, patting her head.

He took it nonchalantly, noting that it seemed heavier this year (_Strange_, he thought) as he ripped the envelope across the top. As it opened, three things fell out: two slips of parchment, and a silver badge, with the letters _H.B._ scrawled on it in neat cursive writing.

James let all but one letter fall to the floor. The badge banged against the hardwoods, and a few house elves peeked their heads around the corners to locate the noise, and they saw a shocked James standing in the center of the foyer, letter in hand, his hazel eyes wide.

"_Fuck_."

(Diagon Alley)

"I told Mar you'd get it, of course, but she was still nervous – a bit silly, really. I mean, who else in our year is _half_ as qualified as you to be – Lily are you listening to me?"

Mary Macdonald, wearing a light blue summer dress that complimented her blue eyes, poked Lily in the shoulder and rolled her eyes when her friend jumped. "What'd you say?" she asked. Mary tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder, clucking her tongue as they walked.

"I _said_ that I knew you'd be picked for Head Girl," she told her friend proudly, slinging an arm around the taller redhead's shoulders. "Any idea who Head Boy might be?"

"No," Lily sighed. "I owled Remus, but he hasn't responded yet. Don't think I'll need to worry about the other Marauders, do you?" Mary giggled, and the two stopped when Marlene reappeared in front of them, her arms laden with books from Flourish and Blotts.

"Alright," she huffed, doling out the textbooks accordingly. "Mary, these are ours. I'll take them back to my house later… Lily, here are yours."

"Thanks, Mar."

"Of course, love. Now what were you two talking about?" The trio continued walking back towards the Leaky Cauldron, Marlene falling into step seamlessly.

"Oh, Lily's just fretting about who's going to be Head Boy," Mary informed her idly with a wave of the hand. "It's all nonsense. She shouldn't be worried at all."

Marlene cast a furtive glance in Lily's direction, noting the forced strain of her smile. "It's him, isn't it? You're worried he's going to be the Head Boy."

Lily gave her a fleeting look, before sighing again and crossing her arms across her chest, locking the books into place. "I've already talked to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff prefects," she said morosely. "If it's not Remus, who else could it be?"

Marlene patted her shoulder and smiled sympathetically at her friend. They walked through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron, taking seats at the bar. A familiar face appeared from the back, grinning cockily at them.

"Sirius Black," Lily laughed, propping her elbows up on the counter. "Bloody hell."

"Language, Evans," he teased, setting three Firewhiskeys in front of them. "And what brings you lovely ladies to this neck of the woods?"

"School, of course," Marlene answered, taking a sip. "I didn't know you were working here."

"Yep. Tom gave me the job, and a room upstairs."

"What about staying with James?" Lily asked.

Sirius shrugged noncommittally. "I didn't need to be a bother to them, anymore. I reckon I overstayed my welcome."

Lily searched his face for clues, but he remained typically blank-faced. She sighed, taking a drink from her own cup. "Have you seen Remus lately?" she asked after a beat.

He shook his head, leaning against the counter. The pub wasn't very busy, with only a few people meandering through on their way to Diagon Alley, and an elderly man seated by himself at the far end of the bar. "Letters came in though," he replied. "Reckon that's why you three were shopping?"

Lily waved her letter for confirmation. Mary piped up, "Lily's gotten Head Girl."

Sirius grinned cheekily at her, winking. "Did she now?"

Lily stuck her tongue out at him and swatted his arm. "Yes. Doubt I'll be able to control you, nevertheless."

"Me, Evans? Why, I'm a saint."

"Obviously."

The elderly man grunted. "Black," he croaked. "Get me 'nother." Sirius sighed and gave the man a thumbs up before disappearing through the back. He returned with a bottle of bourbon, and topped the man off. He came back to stand with the girls a moment later, assuming his position against the counter.

They were quiet for a moment, the girls sipping from their drinks while Sirius ventured over to tend to the elderly man again, who was slurring at him in words that didn't make sense. Sirius returned, and then asked, "So, just you three today? No Alice?" Lily shook her head.

"Auror training," she replied. "Couldn't take today off. We're to see her soon, though."

The bell above the door chimed, and in walked Remus Lupin.

He looked well, if a little tired, and as he approached the four Gryffindors, he waved. He took a seat beside Lily, and Sirius poured him a glass of Firewhiskey. Remus smiled at him in thanks, and then turned to the three girls. "How are all of you?" he asked, swallowing some of his drink.

They all responded with varying degrees of wellness, and then Lily asked, "Remus, have you opened your Hogwarts letter yet?"

He could see the nervousness in her green eyes – she was practically pleading with him to tell her that he had been given the badge. And although Remus knew, even without opening the letter, that he _was not_ Head Boy, it still made him a bit sad to voice it aloud. "It isn't me, Lily," he told her gently, giving her a sad smile.

She sighed and nodded, placing her hand in her chin. "Bloody hell. This could be a long year."

(The Potters, again)

His mother screamed.

"James! _James!_ Head Boy! This is unbelievable! This is - "

"Yeah, yeah, fucking splendid," James muttered, messing his hair subconsciously. He watched his mother pore over the letter for the hundredth time. "Mum, I know you're happy, but…"

"_Happy_? James, after six years of receiving letters from Albus detailing all of your acts of rebellion – all of which I'm sure were very cleverly planned out," she added at her son's look of indignation, "it's marvelous to hear something _positive_, hm?"

"Mum, I told you, there must've been a mistake, or something…"

"James, don't look too excited, there."

"But you said so yourself! For years all I did was get into trouble, and now…"

Mrs. Potter smiled at her son, touching his face lightly. Jane Potter was in her early seventies, but, as was wizard custom, she appeared to be only forty. She had black hair, like her son, and the same hazel eyes, although her face was softer and more lined than his own. Her eyes always appeared warm, and knowing, as though she was always aware of his tricks but didn't trouble herself with lectures, since he would simply ignore them anyway.

"Albus is a smart man, James," she said softly. "I've known him for a very long time. He chose you for a reason, dear." She patted his cheek and walked away, still sighing contentedly, the letter clutched in her hand. James could hear her scrawling a note to her husband, Charles, at the Ministry. He watched her tuck the letter inside the envelope with the note, and then sent the family owl, Xavier, off.

James ran a hand through his already messy hair, and mumbled a farewell to his mother as he grabbed his wand and walked out the front door. Once he got out of the range of the wards, he Apparated.

(James)

James Potter was, by all accounts, "something else entirely."

He had messy black hair and hazel eyes rimmed with square spectacles that he constantly had to push up, due to their largeness. He was built strongly, and was remarkable at Quidditch – and he was aware of the fact. James did _not_ follow the rules, nor did he try to, although he shared with Lily the belief in doing things for the right reasons. Or the wrong ones. He wasn't picky.

He was popular, and well-liked, mostly by the female population, although he had his heart set on one particular redhead.

The same redhead that he was _determined_ not to think about.

Bugger.

(A Marauder Reunion)

When he arrived, the sun was just beginning to set. He walked through the Leaky Cauldron tiredly, slumping down in a bar stool next to Remus. "Prongs, mate," Sirius chanted, pouring him a glass of Firewhiskey. "Bloody hell, you look like shit."

"Yes, well," James muttered, taking a giant gulp of the liquid. He sucked the air between his teeth at the sting, but perservered anyway.

"Merlin. Term hasn't even started yet and he's already like this," Sirius remarked.

"What do you reckon it's about?" Remus asked. James glared at both of them.

"Lily?"

"Doubt it. Which, you did miss her here earlier, mate."

"Our good old friend Snivellus?"

"Can't be."

"Hogwarts letter?"

"Maybe, but why -" Remus stopped short, gasping suddenly. James looked at him forlornly, downing the rest of his Firewhiskey. Sirius topped off his drink again, looking between the two of his friends.

"Prongs, tell me it isn't."

"It is."

"It can't be."

"Oh, but it is."

And then Remus began to laugh.

He banged his fist against the table, startling a few of the patrons in the pub, and Sirius gawked at his friend in confusion. "What the bloody hell is going on here?" he asked. James continued to look miserable while Remus wiped the tears from his eyes, clapping James on the shoulder.

"Prongs, over here, has been made Head Boy."

Sirius blinked. And then he and Remus began to laugh together, James muttering about his _sodding friends_ and how _bloody ridiculous_ they were being.

"We should call Peter," Sirius chuckled, trying to smother his grin, "it'd be a right Marauder reunion!"

James took another swig of his drink, glaring at his friends as they stopped their laughter. "Just wait till Lily hears," Remus sighed, shaking his head and sipping his own Firewhiskey.

"Why?" James asked suddenly, defensively.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, and then Remus eyed his friend warily. "Because," he said at length, "Lily is Head Girl."

James groaned again. "This just gets better and better," he muttered.

(Of Late)

Running her hands through her towel-dried hair, Lily sat on her bed and grabbed her Hogwarts letter, skimming the list of requirements to ensure that she had picked up everything in Diagon Alley that day. She was startled by a loud tap on her window, and seeing a tawny owl outside, she ran over and unlatched it. She retrieved a treat for the owl as she took the letter from its beak, petting the head affectionately as she read.

She dropped the letter on the bed in shock.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, internally swearing.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Lily penned a quick reply, tucking it into the owl's beak. She waited for the owl to disappear from sight before latching the window again and collapsing on her bed in defeat. She stared at the letter beside her, snatching it away and throwing it into the trash can.

"Bloody hell."

_Lily,_

_Thought you'd want to know: James is Head Boy._

_Good luck._

_Remus_

_Remus,_

_Bloody hell._

_Lily_


	2. Chapter 2: Lungs

**Chapter 2: Lungs. **

There was a point in time in which Lily and Petunia Evans got on quite well. It was during said time that Lily was blissfully ignorant of the powers which she possessed, and although she did not understand her quirks that let her make flowers bloom suddenly or blow doors of hinges, she did not question it. She was, after all, a little girl who still believed in God.

Lily pondered this as she sat in the kitchen, three nights after she received her Hogwarts letter, watching her older sister and mother chat with Vernon Dursley and his parents. It was odd, now, looking at Petunia; she was growing up so quickly, and she had changed so much, and the fact nearly brought tears to Lily's eyes. She still remembered the days when Petunia thought her magic to be extraordinary and beautiful, back when she still loved Lily.

Sighing, the pretty redhead poured herself another cup of tea.

She had considered going out there, but judging by the frequent and nervous glances Vernon continued to toss towards the house, Lily realized her company was not welcome. She tucked her left knee into her chest, twirling a pencil absentmindedly in her fingers while she stared at the crossword before her. She was filling in a few additional letters when the door to the porch opened and Petunia entered the kitchen.

She hardly paid Lily any attention, going directly to the refrigerator to grab something to drink. Lily watched her sister, and she wondered how it was possible that Petunia always had an air of perfection about her; her hair was immaculate, her makeup matted, her smile in place (except in Lily's presence, of course). Her older sister had grown hard, and Lily hadn't been there for the transformation.

"Everything going well?" Lily asked tentatively, setting down her pencil.

Petunia did not look up. "Of course," she replied, her tone almost aghast. "Vernon charms everyone he meets. He's quite the people person."

Lily highly doubted this, but she did not comment, choosing instead to nod.

Petunia made for the door, but Lily called out, regretting it nearly a second afterwards. _This is stupid_, she thought. "Tuney?" Petunia turned around, quirking her eyebrow in disdain. "I was just wondering… I was wondering if you'd told Vernon."

The blonde's face fixed into an eerily cold expression, and she placed her hand on the door knob.

"Yes," was all she said. She walked out the door and left Lily in the kitchen. She felt suddenly very, very alone.

(Before – _Summer 1970)_

"Do it again, Lily," Petunia whispered excitedly. Both girls were sitting cross-legged beneath the willow tree by the playground near their house, and the branches swayed lazily in the wind. Lily smiled mischievously at her older sister, situating herself comfortably, before holding out her hand with the palm face-up. The pair stared at Lily's small, delicate hand, and Petunia gasped in admiration as a small sunflower blossomed in Lily's palm.

"It's like magic!" Petunia squealed, clapping her hands together. Both girls laughed, and Lily tucked the sunflower into the corner of Petunia's hair. Petunia smiled at her little sister, squeezing her hand, and then they both laid down between the tree.

The two girls watched the clouds pass over the pale blue sky, pointing out shapes that only young children could find amongst the fluff; after a time, Lily turned her head to look at her older sister, a slight note of worry in her voice. "Are we going to be friends forever, Tuney?" she asked innocently.

Petunia turned to face her younger sister, seeing in her bright green eyes that there was a hint of actual fear behind the question. Petunia smiled. She pillowed her head in her hands, closing her eyes. "Yes," she said matter-of-factly.

Lily smiled softly, and she, too, closed her eyes.

(Moonlight)

Remus hated this. He truly, truly despised it, with every single fiber in his being.

It hurt, for one. And then there was the fact that morning always came: there was always the ache in his bones and the scratches and the reminder that this would happen once a month, every month, for the rest of his life.

He was always alone, during the summers, even though the other Marauders offered to come. But how would they explain to their parents? None of them knew of Remus' "furry little problem," as James so eloquently put it, and he doubted that their parents' reactions would be anywhere near the same as their children's had been. Somehow, he did not believe that they would write it off as being "cool," the same way their sons once had.

Remus sighed, pushing his sweat-slick light brown hair out of his eyes before attempting to stand. Trembling profusely, Remus sucked the air in between his teeth, pausing when he heard a loud _crack_ radiate through the abandoned village that Remus always occupied on such occasions.

Unable to stand for much longer, Remus fell to the ground, muttering profanities as he readied himself to stand again. Before he could, however, a voice asked, "Agrippa, Moony. You sure know how to party."

Remus' head shot up and met the storm-grey eyes of the intruder. Sirius leaned against the dilapidated wooden wall of the old house, smirking cockily at his friend.

"How the hell did you find me?" Remus asked, his voice ragged. Sirius shrugged and winked at him. Then, without hesitation, he walked forward and wrapped Remus' arm around his shoulders, hefting his body up. "You look like shit," Sirius muttered, slowly walking Remus out of the building.

"Shut up, Padfoot."

"Touchy in the morning, are we?"

"I'm going to kill you."

"And leave the female population without _this_? That'd be blasphemy, mate."

"I'm still going to do it."

"Are you strong enough to Apparate?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"I reckon so," Remus agreed, taking a raggedy breath.

"Hold on tight."

"Buy me a drink first, Padfoot."

There was a second loud crack, and then they were in Sirius' new home: a room in the Leaky Cauldron.

Remus collapsed on the bed, panting heavily, and Sirius walked to the nightstand to grab a silver-rimmed mirror. "James Potter," he said firmly into it. His own handsome face was reflected for a brief moment, but then the glass rippled, and James' spectacled one appeared.

"He looks worse than usual," Sirius said in an undertone, so Remus couldn't hear him.

"I'm coming."

Sirius nodded, setting down the mirror and returning his attention to the werewolf on the bed.

He began mumbling incantations to heal the wounds, and Remus fell asleep rather quickly. It was a side effect of the change; it weakened his body considerably, and seeing as Remus was already rather frail, the change drained every ounce of his energy. James entered the room a few minutes after the exchange with Sirius, shutting the door quietly and taking a seat beside Remus.

Sirius finished the incantation he was performing and glanced at James. Both knew what the other was thinking, without having to voice it (this was a benefit of having been friends for such a long time). "He shouldn't be alone," James whispered, shaking his head. "We should be going with him."

"Prongs, mate, we've _tried_. We can't _force_ him to do anything."

"No, but maybe…"

"Prongs, we've talked to him. Thousands of times, actually. And Moony is perhaps the most stubborn person I've ever met. Aside from you, of course."

"Charming."

"But honestly," Sirius continued, meeting his best friend's eye, "we can't just force ourselves on him. He's sensitive about this. You know that."

James ruffled his hair and pushed his glasses up on his nose, sighing. He didn't understand why Remus, of all people, was condemned to such a horrible fate. Remus was the best of the four of them, he reckoned. He was smart, and kind, and a bit mischievous. He was the son that every mother dreamed of having, including his own (wont as she was to admit it). He was one of the top in their year, and he was a prefect, for Godric's sake.

_And he should have been Head Boy_.

This notion had been bothering James a great deal, constantly poking and prodding at his brain until he wanted simply to smash it into a wall. The fact that he had been made Head Boy still flustered him, but he couldn't rid his mind of that singular thought: _it should have been Remus._

But it couldn't have been. Of course it couldn't have been.

Because of _this_. Because Remus disappeared once a month, every month, so that his body could contort itself and so that his body could warp into this beast that wasn't _him_. It wasn't the kind, smart, mischievous Remus. It was its own entity, that thing Remus became. But it wasn't _him_.

That part infuriated James the most, he thought. Remus was punished – and eventually would be stereotyped against, when it all came out – over something that was not part of him as a human being. It was a disease, an affectation to Remus himself.

All of these things ran through James' head, as they often did, in the moment it took Sirius to heal another gash on Moony's forearm.

"It isn't fucking fair," James hissed after a moment.

"Life isn't fucking fair," Sirius said dryly.

(A Bit of Marlene)

She had just finished breakfast, and was about to wash the dishes, when the owl slammed into her window.

Marlene had screamed, and her father had called to ask if she was alright. "It's alright, Dad," she replied, placing a hand over her pounding heart. She ran over to the window, unlatched it, and gingerly pulled the dazed owl inside. She recognized it immediately; smiling to herself, she tugged the parchment out of the owl's beak, rubbing its head absently.

_Marlene_, it read in his messy scrawl. _We've only just gotten back today. Romania was brill – you would've loved it. The dragons, of course, were all well and good, but the work that Sarah does is crazy. She's a bloody lunatic, that one. _Marlene smiled to herself. _I've gotten you something. It's attached with Fenby. (My apologies if it's a bit tussled up. He is a bit of a clutz.) _She glanced down to the inattentive bird and untied the small parcel from his leg. _Anyways: I missed you. We should catch up at the Leaky Cauldron, yeah? Sarah's given me a few new records I reckon you'd like_. _Cheers, Adam_.

Sighing contentedly, Marlene leaned her back against the counter, rereading the letter. Fenby, the dimwitted owl, was looking at her impatiently. She grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and hurriedly replied, thanking him for the gift and saying she would open it momentarily, and that they should definitely meet sometime that week. Sticking the letter into the bird's mouth, she patted him on the head. She watched him fly away, and then returned her attention to the unopened parcel on the table.

She gently ripped the brown paper surrounding the gift. Inside was a small box, and inside _that_ was a dragon skin bracelet in a deep purple, Marlene's favorite color. Her name was embossed in gold letters on the band. They shone in the sunlight, and Marlene gasped in appreciation. It was a thin band, and understated, something that suited her personality perfectly.

Marlene smiled. Mr. Price entered the kitchen, grinning at his daughter's own radiant smile, and asked coyly, "That's lovely, dear. Who's that from?"

"Adam sent it. He just got back from visiting his sister in Romania," she said, fingering the bracelet.

"Ah," her father responded, a knowing glint in his eye. He poured himself a cup of tea, also leaning against the counter. "Are you two…?"

"No! Oh, no," Marlene said quickly, shaking her head so that her short blonde hair swept around her face. "No, we're just friends."

"Oh, of course," Mr. Price retorted airily, wrapping his fingers around his mug and smiling at his daughter. "It really is lovely, though, dear."

"Yeah," Marlene murmured, her lips tugging into a smile once more. "It is, isn't it?"

(Pumpkins into Carriages)

"The wedding will be beautiful, of course," Petunia was saying as she poured her friends glasses of water. They all worshipped Petunia, looking to her as their ringleader of sorts, and Lily found the scene utterly bemusing. All three girls watched Petunia with an expression of awe and interest, hanging on every word she said as though it was delivered from the Lord himself. Lily rolled her eyes, grabbing a spare cookie off the untouched plate on the counter before sneaking back out to the porch.

Lily sat on the ivory wooden steps, crunching on the chocolate chip cookie in silence. The wind whistled through the trees and a few birds called to each other. She leaned back on one of her hands (the other still clutching the cookie, of course) and tilted her head to the side as she admired the stars. It really was beautiful, she thought. She wondered when she had last sat on these steps, looking at the stars.

It was humbling. It made her realize how tiny she was in the universe, how insignificant, in the long run.

She heard a child laughing in the distance, followed by the shrieks of playing. Sighing to herself, Lily's heart ached with the thought that, in another world, _her_ world, there were children who were mourning the death of parents. Children who feared things far more adult than they should. Children, she noted suddenly, like her.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Lily started, opening her eyes and searching her surroundings wildly. Vernon Dursley was watching her skeptically from the back lawn. He had a thick mustache ("So manly, don't you think?" Petunia had laughed to her) and a heavyset frame, his dark hair combed over in an arrogant manner. His face always had the appearance of being flushed, and his beady black eyes were almost always narrowed, at least in Lily's company. He reminded her of the Elmer Fudd cartoon; he thought himself to be so intelligent and cunning, but when properly looked at, he was merely a dimwitted man with enough haughtiness to cover the fact.

Lily did not answer for a moment. She was shocked that he was speaking to her at all, seeing as Petunia had told him of her… _ability_. She eyed him warily, trying to ascertain what he was doing out here alone, with _her _no less.

"Well?" he huffed.

"I might ask you the same question," she retorted, fire in her voice. Vernon raised his eyebrows at her, seemingly shocked that she could actually _speak_. Lily felt a strong desire to hex him.

He also appeared slightly uncomfortable being anywhere near her. He fidgeted, not meeting her eyes. "I was getting some air," he muttered dumbly after a brief pause. She nodded, but didn't break her stare.

"Petunia told you?" she asked blatantly.

He blanched. His black eyes darted up to her much-kinder green ones for a fraction of a second. "Yes."

"So you know about my magic?"

She saw him flinch. She smiled slightly.

"Yes."

"Ah."

"What you do…" he said at length, a note of contempt in his voice, "it's all just… it can't be true. It's _rubbish_, it is."

"How do you figure?" she asked in a faux sweet manner.

"It's nothing more than childish fancy," he spat, his beefy hands trembling. "It's like that – that Cinderella nonsense. With the pumpkin turning into a carriage and whatnot."

Lily inhaled deeply, her brow furrowing in frustration. How was she supposed to talk to someone with such a close-minded approach to life? It was infuriating. "It's not… it's not like that at all, though," she said slowly. "I'm not some fairy godmother. I don't sit around conjuring flowers and singing, 'Bibbity, bobbity, boo.' It just isn't like that."

"Mhm, well, I think you're mad."

"Do you?"

"I think you deserve to be in an institution."

"Cheers to that."

"You're a basket case, you are. I don't know _what_ Petunia sees in you at all."

"What Petunia… _what_?"

"I told her that consorting with such… _lunatics_ was bad for the reputation. It looks bad, you see. Especially now, in this world she's moving up in," he said seriously. He now looked at Lily with disgust in his expression, and it made her want to throw a punch. Or perhaps a door.

_The James Potter approach to life, _she thought idly.

"Bad for the reputation." she repeated without any infliction of emotion.

"Yes. You see, your sister is going to be someone, quite a big deal. She's marrying _me_, after all. And I don't know _why_ she insists upon putting you in the wedding. I demanded she refuse it." He rolled his eyes and made a disgruntled noise. "Utter nonsense. Complete madness."

"Oh, definitely."

"But, my fiancée will not be swayed. Stubborn as a mule, that one."

"That's what I hear."

"But I just want you to know –" He said this while pointing his finger at her, in an attempt to be menacing. It wasn't. "—that although _she_ refuses to take you out of the wedding, you are _not_ welcome in our home, or in our lives. _Ever_. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

"Brilliant."

He turned away, stalking off towards the back gate so that he could reenter the house through the front. Lily watched him walk away, equal parts flustered and flabbergasted, and she wondered how her sister could fall for someone so _ridiculously_ ignorant. He was a poor excuse for a human being, with his strict policy of _normal_ and his conceited expression. He disgusted her, and she knew the feeling was mutual.

She groaned in anger, massaging the bridge of her nose. Lily glanced back at the house, and Petunia looked over at that same moment. In that momentary eye lock, Lily thought she saw traces of the old Tuney: the warmth, the sadness at the situation, the _love_. But just as quickly as it had come, the look was gone, and Petunia's formally cold mask was back in place.

Lily sighed. She could really use a Firewhiskey.

**A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback with the first chapter! All of your comments were so lovely. Just know that I am kissing you through the screen. **

**Hopefully this chapter was alright. Please read & review! **

**Hannah**


	3. Chapter 3: Heat

**Disclaimer: I am not, in fact, Jo Rowling. Sadly. **

**Chapter 3: Heat.**

Sirius wiped down the bar for what felt like the tenth time in the last twenty minutes.

Merlin, he hated this time of day.

It was in between the morning rush – people bustling in and out for work, ordering breakfasts, checking out of their rooms from upstairs – and the lunch rush – people off from work for a short amount of time – and the place seemed so _empty_.

The elderly chap, whose name Sirius had learned was Clyde, was slumped in the corner, his small glass of bourbon half-finished. He had arrived amongst the morning rush to order a small breakfast, and had not moved from that position since. There was also a young girl at a booth in the back, with multiple books spread out before her; she appeared to be studying for something. Besides those two, and the few people passing by to gain entrance to Diagon Alley, the pub was rather quiet.

Sirius took a seat behind the bar on a stool. Remus was still upstairs, resting from the moon; Sirius had owled his mother, letting her know that her son was alright. Sirius wished that someone – _anyone_ – would come in, if only to give him something to do.

Boredom was something that Sirius Black was most certainly _not_ suited for.

The same time he thought this, however, the bell above the front door chimed. Sirius looked up, and smiled at the entrant. It was a girl, with short, curly hair and pale blue eyes. She was without the burgundy robes and golden badge that Sirius had seen her with so often the past few weeks; instead, she wore a simple denim skirt and white shirt with sandals.

"Why, Alice Griffiths, you are a vision."

"I have a boyfriend, Black," she teased, sitting at the bar. Alice smiled at the bartender, who gave her a look of false disappointment.

"Ah, Alice, you break my heart. And how is dear Frank?"

"He's well. He had to go in today." She was referring to Auror training. "You work here now?"

"Yep," he said cheerfully, "it's brilliant."

"I can see the appeal."

"Yes, well, a bloke's got to make money somehow, right? Plus, Tom's letting me stay upstairs at a lower fee."

Alice's brow furrowed. "I thought you were staying with the Potters?"

Sirius shrugged. "I have to move out at some point, right? Might as well start now. What can I get you to drink, then?"

Alice cocked her head to the side and appeared to be thinking thoughtfully about this. Finally, she sighed: "Butterbeer, I suppose."

"Predictable."

"Hey, watch it, you. I'll be an Auror soon."

Sirius laughed. "Touché." He grabbed a bottle from the back and uncapped it, setting it in front of her. "Hey, I was…" he began to say, but just as he did so, however, the lunch crowd began to file in. Sirius gave Alice a sorry smile. The two conversed little for the remainder of her stay; she left him her fee, with a generous tip, and departed with a wave.

(RSVP)

In exactly seven days, Petunia Evans would become Petunia Dursley. She would live in a large house and never have to work (not that she had done that _at all_) and she would be perfectly happy with her normal husband.

The thought alone made Lily cringe.

Of course, she was happy for her sister (sort of), but Lily thought that her elder sister could do better. She was very pretty, after all, and quite intelligent, and she was not yet finished with University. She could have found a great bloke that treated her and her family well – Lily scowled – and could still make her _happy_.

All of this passed through Lily's head as she watched her sister sort through the wedding invitations. The blonde was seated at the kitchen table, with the various adorned cards surrounding her and a checklist off to the side. She was still wearing the outfit she had adorned for a brief trip into town for last-minute wedding errands that morning, but her hair was pulled into a casual chignon at the nape of her neck and she had foregone the small hoop earrings from earlier.

"Good God," she muttered, rolling her eyes sardonically, "don't people read the part that says 'RSVP by August 19th?'" Lily smiled to herself, reaching into the fridge for the jug of milk.

"That requires too much effort," Lily responded jokingly, before she had time to stop herself.

Petunia started at the noise, glaring at her little sister with annoyance. "Yes, well," Petunia said primly, reorganizing the piles of cards into even _neater _stacks. It had always been her nervous habit. "It's a bit rude."

Lily nodded, and decided that not speaking would probably bode better for her.

She poured her glass of milk and returned the jug before perching herself on top of the counter. She watched her sister work, and the movements were so precise and elegant. Everything was a fluid motion; it was the sort of grace that Lily had always envied.

"Tuney…?"

Petunia looked up, her typical stoic expression altered only by the quirked eyebrow.

Lily considered voicing the question that had been present in her mind for the past few weeks; she wondered, absentmindedly, what Petunia would say, or how she would react. She thought her sister might just ignore it altogether, or quip some snide comment back.

_Why are you marrying him?_

"Never mind."

Lily jumped off the counter and slipped out of the room. Her sister had already returned to the invitations.

(Solitude)

"James!"

Pause.

"James!"

Pause.

"_James_."

"Coming, Mum, coming…"

The black-haired wizard walked down the stairs with a relaxed gait, grinning crookedly at his mother. She had her hands on her hips and her eyebrow was raised in question, but there was an amused look on her face. "I told you we were going to have lunch together," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes, I know, but I was hoping you were joking."

"Oh, but that would mean that I would miss out on the _perfect_ opportunity to make you miserable."

"Your motherly instincts are astounding."

She smacked her son's arm playfully as the pair entered the dining room. The house elves – there were ten in total in the Potter household – had just finished setting the table, and two were waiting to be of service near the door that led to the kitchen. Charles Potter was already seated, napkin in lap, waiting patiently for his son and wife.

Mrs. Potter took her seat to the left of her husband; James took the one to the right. The food appeared on the plates in a manner similar to that of the Hogwarts feasts, and James grabbed his fork and began to eat.

"I was hoping we could go to the coast in a few weeks," she said cheerfully. "The weather is supposed to be lovely this time of year. The Prewetts have a house up there, you know, and I've been told it's beautiful. It's right up near the Weasleys' place – Shell Cottage, I believe?"

"For how long?" James inquired.

"I don't know… I was thinking a week. Maybe more."

James glanced up at his mother. The vague _maybe more _made him nervous. "More than a week?" he asked carefully.

"Yes." Mrs. Potter continued to eat, a mischievous glint in her eye. "And _no_, you are not allowed to stay here."

"Can Sirius come at least?"

"I'm sorry, dear. It's just going to be us three. Bonding and all that."

"Dad?" James appealed to his father. "Do _you_ agree with this?"

Mr. Potter merely sighed and shrugged, giving his son a look that advised him to not question the subject. "If your mother wants to, then…"

"Bloody hell."

"Language, James."

"Sorry, Mum, but… _why_? We've never gone to the coast before, especially not this close to term starting up, and…"

"Just think we need a change of scenery, that's all," she responded, winking.

James groaned.

(Stumble)

Remus had extricated himself from the mass of blankets and pillows at about three o'clock, and he had quickly dressed and Apparated to the park that was a few blocks from his house. He lived in a mostly Muggle neighborhood – it was something that appeased his mother – and the park was derelict and empty most days, allowing for easy Apparation without worry.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and began the trek home.

He felt better, even though he should have rested a bit more, but he was ready to get back home. He also, loath as he was to admit it, felt guilty having been taken care of by Sirius and James, and he wanted to relieve his friends of the added stress.

The heat was oppressive. It wasn't humid, and the air seemed almost musky, but the sweltering weather made everything seem sticky and steamy. Remus figured the streets were sparse for this reason; even the neighborhood children, who often frequented the alleyways for soccer games, were not out.

The road that led to his house was long and straight, lined on either side by houses with white-picket fences. It was a rather humdrum neighborhood, and although it was quiet, Mrs. Lupin adored it. She had felt rather isolated from her old life, after marrying her wizard husband, and especially with her son's condition, the magical community was a bit troublesome for her. Remus didn't mind so much, but it made his father stay out quite late every night; he was always working, always rushing from the _Prophet_ offices to home to some interview.

The sun was sinking in the sky, despite the hour, and the bright hues of the day seemed to set the scene on fire.

Remus arrived home, and he opened the door carefully.

"Remus?"

His mother, wearing a faded green apron, exited the kitchen and came to see her son. She smiled warmly at him, patting his cheek affectionately. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Fine, Mum."

"Are you hungry, I'm making some soup, if you'd like some."

"Oh, no, thanks," he said quickly. "I'm just going to go upstairs…"

"Oh, of course," his mother responded in a nervous manner. The full moon business was always confusing to her, and she opted not to learn the details; the grotesqueness, Remus figured, was a bit much for her. "Sleep well, love."

Remus smiled, not quite meeting her eye, and retreated up the stairs and into his bedroom. He shut the door and turned on the fan to try and circulate the air. He sat on his bed, using his hands as a pillow behind his head, staring at the ceiling. When he was younger, his mother had put those glow-in-the-dark stars on it, and he had always fancied that he was sleeping underneath the constellations.

Remus sighed and closed his eyes. He was tired.

(Letters)

An owl was perched on his windowsill.

James rushed over and took the letter from its beak, giving the animal a few treats. While the bird snacked, James sat on his bed and unfolded the parchment, smiling as he read.

_Dear James,_

_There are several things that need to be addressed in this._

_One: I'm writing _you_ a letter. The world must have gone mental._

_Two: Congratulations, even if you don't want to hear it. (And I know you don't.)_

_Three: Bloody hell, have you attempted the Potions assignment? It's massive. It's larger than Slughorn's ego. (Clever, right? I know you laughed. Don't deny it.)_

_Anyways, I have to go, since Petunia is about to have heart palpitations over something or other. But, just so you know – I'm not horribly displeased at having to serve with you. I won't let you muck it up too terribly._

_Lily_

James grinned at the paper and set it on his bed.

He considered his fifteen year old self, in all of his cockiness and glory, and he knew that the old him would have been sufficiently pleased to have received a letter from _the_ Lily Evans. And, of course, the _current _him was just as pleased – if not more so – but so much had changed in just a year alone, and the James of years prior had grown up somewhat (spoken in the loosest of terms).

He reread the letter. Yes, the world _must _have gone mental, if Lily Evans was willingly writing a letter to James Potter. James never did like being totally sane, anyway.

(One Year Prior – _Sixth Year_)

The fire had all but burned out, and the rest of the house had already gone to bed, but Lily Evans and James Potter were still up, a game of Exploding Snap abandoned on the floor.

They were supposed to be leaving in a few days time, and the first day of exams had finally ended. Perhaps they should have been resting, to get sleep for the Muggle Studies (James) and Ancient Runes (Lily) exams they had the next day, but instead, they had been up, talking about everything and nothing. They had both been silent a few moments when James spoke up.

"I'm sorry."

Lily looked at him, bewildered. "What for?"

"For… for everything. Merlin – last year, with Snape… all the arguments that I initiated… everything."

"James, I…"

"No, I need to…" he trailed off. "Look – I know that what I did last year… it wasn't _right_. And even if he was the one that said, y'know, _that word_, I still egged him on, and I'm sure I didn't help with the… situation." He paused. "I just… I'm so _fucking _sorry. You two… you two were close, and I…"

The sincerity in his eyes and his words made her want to cry.

Lily hesitated before answering.

"I think," she said slowly, staring at the burning embers in the fireplace, "that I forgave you awhile ago. I needed someone to blame for a little bit, until I had sorted through everything and finally established that it was Sev – Snape's fault. He was the one who, in the end, went _there_. Not you."

James was quiet. "So does that mean…?"

"Forgiven."

"Right."

The two sat in silence again. Lily sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know we haven't really… gotten along in the past," she said (James made a face). "But… I think… I think I'd like to try to be friends."

James appeared surprised. "Friends?"

"Yes, James. That's what happens when people enjoy each other's company."

"Are you implying that…?"

She slapped his arm. "_You know what I mean_," she laughed. "Prick."

James smiled. "I'd like that too."

"So… friends?" Lily extended her hand; as they were seated side-by-side on the couch, it made for an awkward position. James reached forward and clasped his own larger hand around her smaller one, and they shook.

"Friends."

"Merlin," Lily breathed. "I'm friends with James Potter. What has the world come to?"

"I reckon you'll be committed, next."

"Oh, definitely."

And as the embers of the long-ceased fire burned in the fireplace, casting an orange glow against the pale skin of Lily's face, James felt that familiar sensation in his stomach – a mixture of confusion and happiness and something he refused to acknowledge (even though it was so blatantly there). Lily smiled at him, and he smiled back, and he wondered what she was thinking about.

(Fathers)

Lily put away her quill and parchment in her desk drawer. Her owl had departed about an hour ago, bearing her message. The clock on her bedside table informed her that it was nearly ten o'clock. Feeling a sudden need for a drink of water, Lily walked down the stairs quietly and into the kitchen. No sooner had she grabbed a glass from the cupboard than she noticed a slumped figure sitting on the porch with her knees pulled into her chest.

The girl was shaking.

Lily abandoned her drink.

Opening the back door, Lily walked outside, nearing the blonde figure. It was evident from the choked sobs and trembling shoulders that she was crying; Lily edged nearer.

"Tuney?"

Her older sister jumped, turning to look at the intruder. Petunia's cheeks were covered in fresh tears, and her blue eyes were bloodshot. Lily sat down next to her and tucked her own knees into her chest, leaning her cheek on them as she peered at her sister.

"Are you alright?"

Petunia snorted. "Does it bloody _look _like I'm alright?"

"I suppose not," Lily murmured.

The pair was quiet for a brief moment. Then: "What's the matter?"

Petunia sighed. Shakily, she wiped at her cheeks. "Everything," she whispered. "It's just…" Pause. "He's not here, you know? He was supposed to be here, to walk me down the aisle and to kiss me on the cheek and hand me off and… and he's _not_."

Lily nodded. She understood at once: their father.

"And… and it seems like… like _everyone_ leaves me, y'know? Like first it was you, with that _bloody _school and that _dimwitted _boy, and then Dad died, and now… now I'm leaving, and it's _terrifying_."

Petunia glanced at her sister. Lily seemed to be deep in thought. She heaved a sigh and whispered, "Tuney, you aren't alone. You've got me – don't look like that. You _do_. And you have Mum. And, yes, I know Dad's not here, and it isn't _fucking fair_, but we can't change that."

Petunia wiped at her eyes again.

"I know you miss him," Lily murmured. "Because I do too."

"How can you say that?" her older sister demanded. There was a bite in her tone. "You weren't even here when he died! You were… you were off at that stupid school of yours, doing magic tricks, and meanwhile, I had to sit here, _alone_, and watch him _die_. You weren't _here_, Lily," she spat angrily.

"I'm sorry, Tuney, I am, but – it wasn't _my fault_. I…" Lily bit her lip, clenching her fists uncertainly. She didn't want to explode on her sister in this way. "I didn't mean to leave," she whispered.

"But you _did_."

"Yes."

"And you left _me_."

Lily looked up.

Suddenly, everything seemed so startlingly clear to Lily: she understood her sister, and her anger, and the reason why she was getting married so young to a man she had only dated a few months. She had always been abandoned, and left behind, and it had all started right there: with Lily.

She was to blame.

Lily's lips parted in understanding, and she stared at her older sister with a mix of sympathy and compassion.

"I'm so sorry."

"I don't believe you."

Lily locked eyes with Petunia. "Tuney… _Petunia_, look, I know we haven't… we haven't gotten along for the past few years." Her sister snorted. "But… but I think that we should… should _try_, for Mum's sake, at least. She hates when we bicker, and…"

But Petunia was no longer listening. It seemed as though that brief moment of weakness – of humanity – had disappeared, and she was dusting off her pants and walking back into the house. Lily spun around, staring incredulously at her retreating form, before whispering, "I'm sorry."

Petunia heard her. And, for a fraction of a second, she considered accepting the apology. But then another wave of emotion hit her – her father, and Lily, and the wedding – and she needed to get away.

She left her sister sitting on the porch surrounded by darkness.

**A/N: Hello, all! Sorry it's taken me so long to update – been a bit busy the past week, with a swim meet and school and whatnot.**

**Anyways: hope you like this chapter. I'm a little (more like a lot) concerned and **_**extremely**_** nervous to hear your thoughts.**

**Next chapter: THE WEDDING! And a lovely scene that I'm rather excited to write (featuring our favorite couple).**

**Read & review please! **

**Hannah**


	4. Chapter 4: Hello

**Disclaimer: Still not Jo Ro. Tis a sad day.**

**Chapter 4: Hello.**

The noise level had not lowered since all of the bridesmaids had arrived but thirty minutes ago, and Lily already had a pounding headache.

_Bugger_.

Lily was unaccustomed to these numbers of people in her small home; she was away at school for most of the year, and when she _was_ home, it was typically just she and her mother and – on occasion – Petunia. Now, however, her house was filled to the brim with florists and bridesmaids and _women_ in general, and Lily wasn't quite sure how she had ended up in the center of it all.

"Lily – oh, Lily, dear," her mother called, waving a flustered hand towards her daughter, beckoning her forward. "I need you to ensure that Elizabeth is ready," she told Lily in a hurried undertone once she had approached. "Also, check on the flowers, would you? Make sure they're alright? And if not, I can…"

"Mum –"

"…always call the florist again, I suppose, or you could… you know…"

"Mum, I –"

"…oh, and the cake is in the fridge – please, please, _please_ remind Aunt Lynn that she needs to bring that to the reception, because you know how forgetful she is, and –"

"_Mum_," Lily said firmly, raising an eyebrow. Mrs. Evans sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I can handle it," Lily added, giving her mother a reassuring smile. "Go take care of Petunia."

Mrs. Evans gave the redhead an adoring smile before kissing her temple and murmuring a quiet _Thank you_.

Lily merely smiled, exiting the master bedroom of the house (where Petunia was currently having a mental breakdown in the midst of her getting ready) and retreated to the kitchen, where chaos was abounding.

The kitchen of the Evans home was far over capacity, with people bustling to and fro, grabbing snack dishes or a drink of water or merely leaning against the counter to talk. Lily drew in a calming breath and then made her way over to the first order of business.

"Elizabeth!" she said cheerily as she advanced towards the maid-of-honor, who looked up with confused eyes upon the utterance of her name. "You look _lovely_." The older girl smiled shyly, tucking a stray blonde curl behind her ear. Elizabeth Cattery _seemed_ nice enough, Lily supposed, but she was borderline-obsessed with Petunia, and that appeared quite absurd to her. She was a pretty girl, though – Petunia would never have been friends with her, otherwise – with features that people called "delicate," but Lily decided were similar to that of a mouse.

"Thank you, Lily," she said quietly. Lily had always wondered why the second-in-command to Petunia's group of friends didn't despise her, but Elizabeth had never been cruel to Lily. Lily guessed it was because the blonde was a bit more reserved than Petunia, and feared voicing her opinions of people more.

"Petunia is upstairs. She's _freaking_ out, of course," Lily told her in a conspiratorial whisper, rolling her green eyes lightly. "She's been asking for you. You're the only one who could calm her down, I suppose." Elizabeth beamed, her cheeks flushing.

"Of course, of course," she said quickly, bobbing her head. She scuttled out of the room hastily, and Lily eyed the others in the room with calculating eyes before honing in on her next target.

"Aunt Lynn, your dress is amazing!" the younger girl gushed as she took a seat at the table beside the graying woman. The elder smiled gently at her niece, patting her hand absently.

"Why, thank you, Lily dear," she said in her typically-prim tone.

"Mum just wanted me to make sure you remembered about the cake – she's been awfully busy, you know, and she couldn't recall whether she'd told you or not. I _told_ her that you'd already said yes, but she doesn't listen to me," Lily said with a smile.

"Oh, dear, don't you worry about it – your mother's got so much on her mind, no wonder she didn't remember!" Lynn laughed. "I've got it, darling. Don't you fret."

"I knew you'd handle it. Thank you, Aunt Lynn."

"Of course, darling."

Lily flashed another winning smile before rising from the table and slipping out of the room. The florists had left the flowers in the sitting room, where Mrs. Evans had plugged in every single fan she could scrounge around the house to try and keep the flowers from wilting. With a quick look around, Lily shut the door, eying the flowers with trepidation.

She knew that Petunia had wanted all white roses for the bridesmaids (they were wearing pale yellow dresses) and for her own bouquet she had blood red roses. Lily could see that the flowers were all a bit dried out, some slumping over in the heat; she checked behind her to ensure the door was completely closed, before pulling her wand out of the back pocket of her shorts. She raised it slightly in front of her, twirling it up and then flicking her wrist slightly.

The result was instantaneous – the flowers all perked up, fresher and more vibrant than before, and Lily smiled at her handiwork.

She thought back to the way she used to create flowers on accident, with Petunia in the meadows when they were younger, and she allowed herself a bittersweet smile.

Releasing a lengthy sigh, Lily pocketed her wand and turned to leave. She exited the room, leaving the door open behind her, and went upstairs to get herself ready.

(Flames)

Peter choked on his drink.

"You're – you're – _what_?" he sputtered, glancing between his three friends with a stupefied expression on his face.

James sighed, running a nervous hand through his hand and rolling his eyes. "Yes, Pete. Head Boy or some such rubbish."

"But… but you're _James sodding Potter_. How the hell –"

"And therein lies the question," Remus smiled, taking a sip of butterbeer.

"Bloody hell," Peter muttered. "I'm gone for two weeks and the entire universe collapses."

"Don't be melodramatic, Wormy," Sirius quipped as he tossed the towel he had been using to wipe down tables over his shoulder.

"One to talk," Remus murmured.

"Anyway," Sirius continued as if he hadn't heard him. "Prongs here is the only one going to be affected. He's practically a _prefect_, now –"

"Hey –"

"He'll be docking points like a pro before long," Sirius concluded with a solemn nod. "Just you wait."

James smacked his arm, and Sirius winced. "Right bunch of tossers, you are," he muttered, but a smile was tugging at his lips. He placed his butterbeer on the table, swiveling around on the bar stool to examine the near-empty pub.

"Padfoot, mate, how is it possible for you to always be working, but no one is ever in here?"

"You lot always come in at the easy times," Sirius retorted with an edge of defiance. "It gets quite busy _sometimes_."

Peter noticed the older man seated in the corner, cursing at the radio he was toying with in front of him. "Who's that?"

"Clyde. Weird guy, but he's got some interesting theories..."

As Sirius spoke, Clyde slammed his glass down on the table, and Sirius winced. "Yep, got it, Clyde…"

(Vows)

Merlin, she needed a drink.

After dressing herself rather hurriedly and fixing her hair and makeup with a little bit of aid from her wand, Lily was back downstairs promptly twenty minutes later to find the house in near-shambles.

Petunia looked as though she was going to have a hernia.

"Lily, dear," her mother implored with an urgent expression, gesturing towards a relatively-isolated corner. "I trust the flowers are in good shape, right? And, oh – did you make sure that Lynn grabbed the cake? So forgetful, that one. Oh, and – "

"Mum," Lily said over her, grabbing Mrs. Evans' shaking hands. "Take a breath."

"Right. Yes. Breathing. That's important."

"And I've taken care of everything."

Her mother softened. "Thank you, Lily."

"Of course. Now go make sure Petunia is alright. She looks about ready to puke." The redhead smiled gently at her mother. Mrs. Evans pecked her younger daughter's head and then scurried off to help the elder.

(Decisions)

His mother stood with her arms crossed, a defiant smirk toying at her lips. "And just where do you think _you're_ going?" she asked, leaning against the banister of the Potters' rather large staircase.

"Well, since you _insist_ upon being a buzzkill for nearly a week," James said, easily dodging her playful smack, "I am going to hang out with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. For the entire day."

"But you _just_ got back from seeing them!"

"Yes, because I needed to come back home and tell you that I was leaving. Again. For the entire day."

He pecked his mother on the cheek, shooting her an enigmatic smile, and said, "Don't expect me home before dark."

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Do you know me at _all_?"

(Marlene, Revisited)

Adam McKinnon had really lovely eyes, she supposed.

He was standing next to her at their favorite record shop, and he was talking animatedly about Merlin knew what, but she smiled and laughed anyway. His eyes were green, not quite as vivid as Lily's, but paler and cloudy. They reminded her of spring and sunshine and smiles, and for some reason, her own blue ones were drawn to them.

"Mar, you really are a terrible listener."

She laughed, tucking a short strand of hair behind her hair and bumping Adam with her hip. "Now, that's not fair," she disagreed, returning her attention to the box of records in front of them. "I was listening perfectly well."

"Rubbish. But I forgive you." He smiled at her. _He had a really lovely smile_.

"Good," she chirped, grabbing a vinyl from the crate. "Because what would we do without each other?"

(Punctuality)

Sirius was tapping his foot impatiently, shooting glances at the clock with much more fervency than quite necessary. Remus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow at his friend's peculiar behavior.

"James sodding Potter," Sirius was muttering. "Never on time. God forbid he meet his own _best mates_ at the time that _he_ set for Merlin's sake –"

"Pot, have you met Kettle?" Remus quipped.

"Hush, Moony. I'm brooding."

Just then, the previously-mentioned James sodding Potter appeared, walking with a casual gait towards his three mates. Catching sight of Sirius' bemoaned expression, James cocked his head. "Something wrong, Padfoot?"

"No, of course not," Sirius retorted, gesturing towards the clock. "It's not like you aren't a _half hour _late or anything."

James shrugged, clapping him on the shoulder and shooting him a cocky grin. "Glad to know you missed me."

"No, it's just that, ya know, I only have a certain amount of time _off_ before I have to –"

"Moony, tell him to shut up."

"Shut up, mate."

"No, I –"

"Wormy?"

"Sirius, just shut it –"

"For Godric's sake, you three are –"

But James was no longer listening. Giving his friend another bemused look, he began to walk towards the point they had agreed upon to Apparate to Hogsmeade. Remus and Peter followed, leaving Sirius standing alone outside the Leaky Cauldron.

He stayed put petulantly for about ten minutes before, cursing under his breath, he followed the other Marauders.

(Wedding Bells and a Whisper)

The seats were already filled, and the groomsmen were all lined up. The bridesmaids were preparing to walk down the aisle, everyone fiddling with their bouquets or dresses. Lily slipped to the back of the line, where she was supposed to stand, and flashed her sister an encouraging smile.

Petunia nodded her head.

Sighing, Lily rolled her shoulders back as the music began to play. One after another, the five bridesmaids walked – some calmly, others with obvious discomfort in dresses that were two sizes too small. Just before Lily was supposed to walk down, Petunia whispered, "Thank you. For the flowers."

And then, plastering a smile on her face, Lily marched.

The guests all smiled appreciatively at the bridesmaids, although there was an obvious anticipation for the bride, who was soon to approach. As she took her place behind Elizabeth, the wedding march began to play.

The guests stood up collectively, and there was a flurry of gasps as Petunia exited, her mother on her arm. Petunia smiled demurely, keeping her eyes locked on Vernon's, and Lily had to admit that she was beautiful. Her dress, a large ball gown with capped sleeves and pearls, looked exquisite on her; her hair was pinned back into a dainty chignon, suiting her angular face; her makeup was done to perfection, and she exuded that glow that they all talk about.

In short, she looked spectacular.

Lily could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes. _Bloody hell_.

Mrs. Evans kissed her cheek, and Petunia stood facing her soon-to-be husband. There were some words spoken – Lily couldn't even pay attention, because her blood was pounding in her ears and her heart was hammering. Her older sister, the one who she'd played in gardens with and shared secrets and whispers. The one who'd sworn they'd be friends forever, who she thought she would never grow tired of.

The one who now hated her, who denied her magic and her gift. The one who thanked her for using both to help _her_.

Lily could feel the tears, now, and one trickled down her cheek like a dewdrop. Sweet and pure, innocent and silent – one single tear to wash away her anguish and her hurt that had accumulated over seven years.

Rings were placed on fingers. There were those two words uttered ("I do," she had said so firmly). There was a kiss.

And, as Lily watched, there was her older sister, marching away with a man on her arm and a smile on her face, without looking back once.

(Questions)

"I'm starving," Sirius moaned.

"Bloody hell, Padfoot, when are you _not _hungry?" Peter asked, rolling his eyes.

"Hey. Watch it."

Peter shrugged. "Truth hurts."

"We can head over to see Rosmerta, anyway. That'll cheer Padfoot up," James suggested, knocking Sirius with his shoulder.

Sirius sighed as though in content. "Ah, yes. Must pay a visit to my dear lady."

The quartet pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks, which was packed with people at this time of the year. There were butterbeers all around, and the noise level was atrocious; talking and music and food bombarding all of the senses.

"Rosie! How I've missed you!" Sirius called as he sat down at the bar, joined by the other three Marauders.

"Sirius Black," Rosmerta chuckled, crossing her thin arms across her well-endowed chest. "And to what do I owe the pleasure? Missing the school, I wouldn't think."

"Of course not." Sirius feigned hurt. "I just wanted to see you, dear. I assume the answer is still no?"

"Always will be, hun," she said, winking as she set down four butterbeers.

"You're breaking my heart, Rosie."

"Ah, well, I suppose I can live with that."

She winked again and walked away, leaving the four boys alone. They sipped their butterbeers, enjoying the escape from the abominable heat. James caught a glimpse of fiery hair, and he spun around, but saw it was only one of the Prewett girls. Molly, was it?

"You talked to Lily yet?" Remus asked, catching his friend's view.

"Oh, well…" He smiled to himself a bit, remembering her letter. "Once."

"And?"

"And what?" he asked casually, shrugging. "It was just a letter. Nothing major."

"Hm." Remus sipped his drink, and Sirius and Peter eyed James with suspicion.

"For Godric's sake, _what_?"

"Marlene mentioned she was coming to the Leaky Cauldron tonight. After her sister's wedding."

James' brow furrowed. "So?"

"So, I was just thinking how much I missed that place," Sirius said nonchalantly.

(Lyrics)

She hated dancing perhaps more than she hated most things, and she wasn't too fond of the particular choices that she had at the moment (what with Vernon's beast-like family). Alas, Lily found herself nearly hiding amongst her relatives, including her cousin, Allie.

"I'm just saying," Allie was saying, taking a rather large sip of her wine, "you're too pretty to _not _have a boyfriend."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Al, it's like I said. I just don't want one right now."

"What about that bloke you used to talk about all the time?"

"What bloke?"

"You know… dark hair, lived across the street?"

Lily stiffened. It was difficult to explain the situation to someone not from Hogwarts, who didn't understand just how _horrid_ the offense was. Lily had tried to forgive and forget – Merlin, she had – but that next year had been too uncomfortable.

And, yes, it killed her. It ruined her heart to think that a boy she had once loved (or thought she loved, anyway) could be so easily severed from her life. It hurt like hell, but she didn't have much of a choice. That word, that disgusting word, would always hang over their heads, haunting them.

At one point, that bloke may have been a contender. But not anymore. He couldn't be.

"We're… we're not friends anymore," Lily said quietly, looking down at her own glass of champagne.

"Why not?" Allie's voice was concerned, and Lily hated this part; this excuse-making.

"Because… because he just said some things. Some things that no one should ever say to a friend."

Allie nodded, sensing that Lily didn't want to discuss the matter, and for that the redhead was grateful. Clearing her throat to change the subject, Lily smiled and asked, "How's Simon?"

Allie sighed contentedly. "Wondrous."

(Mary, Marlene, and the Truth)

The Leaky Cauldron was bustling at this time of night, what with the dinner crowd and the after-work masses, but Marlene and Adam had arrived early. Mary had joined them not too long after that. All three had butterbeers and a half-filled plate of chips in front of them, looking idly about.

"I'll be back," Marlene declared, pushing back her chair and standing up, slipping off to the loo.

Mary watched her best friend's retreating form, and as the door closed, she turned to Adam with determination. "So. Adam."

Adam shifted uncomfortably. "Yes…?"

"Marlene."

"Yeah…?"

"You like her."

Adam released a weary sigh. It was only from years of experience that Adam knew better than to question Mary and her rather uncanny ability to read things like that. So, with a sort of defeated slump of his shoulders, Adam said, "Clearly you already knew that."

"Obviously," Mary stated shortly, tilting the remainder of her butterbeer into her mouth. "But I wanted to clarify."

"Why?"

"Be-_cause_," she said, her tone making it clear that whatever her reasoning, Adam should already understand, "you two would be the most adorable thing since… ever."

Adam snorted, grabbing a chip from the plate.

"You should tell her, Adam." The solemnity of her voice made Adam look up, and she was eying him with precision. "Really."

"I _should_," Adam agreed. He leaned back in his chair. "_But_, I won't."

"And why the bloody hell is that?"

"Because she's my best mate – _yes_, she is. And I'm not willing to sacrifice that for… for something that could be over in about a minute. Not even."

"You're silly," she informed him, also plucking a chip from the platter.

"Yes, well," Adam said as Marlene exited the loo. "I'm willing to take that."

(Farewells)

Mrs. Evans crossed her arms, lifting an eyebrow at her youngest daughter. "Go in there," she urged, gesturing towards the door, through which her sister was preparing to leave for her honeymoon.

Lily chewed her lip nervously. "I don't know… I don't know if she wants to see me."

"Lily, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not, it's just – Mum, please, she'll be better if I just don't – "

"Lily Marie Evans, go say goodbye to your older sister. God knows when she'll be back next. You'll regret it if you don't."

Lily was just about to argue that she most certainly would _not_ regret avoiding a confrontation, but she sighed and agreed (her middle name had been used, after all). Pushing open the oak door, Lily saw Petunia standing with her back to her sister. She was wearing a simple blue dress and her hair was pulled into a low bun. She was watching herself in the full length mirror provided in the reception hall's room, and seeing Lily behind her, Petunia nodded.

"You look beautiful, Tuney," Lily said before she could help herself. And she did.

Petunia smiled slightly, smoothing the frock and then turning to her sister. "Really?"

The way she asked it – so simple and innocent, without any condescension or anger – made Lily's heart ache. It was like all those years ago under the tree in the meadow. She smiled back at Petunia, urging herself _not _to break down right then, and nodded.

"Just like always."

Petunia smiled demurely, turning back to the mirror. Lily looked at her feet, and clearing her throat, she said quietly, "I should go."

Turning towards the door, Lily stopped when Petunia called her name.

"Yes?"

"I just… thank you. For today."

"You're welcome," Lily whispered, closing the door behind her.

Locking eyes with her mother, she said, "I'm going home to change. I told you, I think… Marlene and Mary… and I…" Lily dented her bottom lip again. She could feel the tears, now, and she refused to cry. It was silly. So very silly.

Mrs. Evans' face softened immediately. "Of course, dear." She pecked her younger daughter on the cheek and Lily turned into a remote corridor to Apparate home.

(Reunited)

As the evening turned to night, and darkness was enveloping the sky, the trio (Mary, Marlene, and Adam) had become seven. They'd already had to push two tables together, much to Tom the barkeep's chagrin, and the seven teenagers were on their third round of drinks.

"Drinking game!" declared Peter, banging his fist on the table. The group laughed at his already-near-intoxicated state, and Sirius gave Peter a faux-stern look.

"Better slow down there, Petey," he said, clapping him on the back, making Peter hiccup.

"Got room for an eighth?"

The group turned to the newest addition. Lily looked beautiful, James noted (even though he wasn't looking), albeit a bit tired. Her hair was loose and wavy, and she wore a casual pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Marlene squealed when she saw her, jumping up and embracing her in a bone-cracking hug.

Lily laughed, wrapping her arms around her friend before peeling away. "Somebody better get me a drink," she stated firmly, taking a seat between Mary and James.

And there it was – that awkward beat where James wasn't sure how she would treat him. He hated this, more than anything, about their newfound friendship; he didn't know if they were going to vent or laugh or scream at each other. And that awkward pause was (at least in his mind) wrought with tension and nervousness.

But then she said, "Wipe that look off your face, James Potter. It's not attractive."

And he replied, "Everything I do is attractive."

And she laughed, and he knew that they were going to be just fine (although he was in quite a bit of trouble).


	5. Chapter 5: Facts

**Chapter 5: Facts.**

"James Potter, would you _please_ move your lazy arse downstairs so we can go?"

"I do love it when you curse."

"Shut up. Take a bag."

James grinned cockily at his mother, who merely shot him an amused sneer. Doing as he was told, he lifted two of the heavy trunks and moved towards the center of the foyer. "Where's Dad?"

"He went on to the house," Mrs. Potter explained, meticulously checking to make sure they had everything (despite the fact that they could pop back over if need be). "He took the other trunk with him."

She nodded once to herself. "Right. You ready?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

James rolled his eyes, readjusting the trunks. "Yeah, I suppose."

"On three."

(Simplicity)

It was a beautiful day in Diagon Alley, Lily mused, and she had needed to get out of the house – if only to escape the _emptiness_ of it. Despite her wariness about the number of people in her home just one day prior, the suddenly silent household seemed so sad to her just then. Her mother was quiet, more than likely as a result of giving away her oldest daughter. She wouldn't see Petunia again for quite awhile.

Lily wouldn't see her for a longer time. But that's another matter.

She was licking an ice cream cone (that heat was still so bloody miserable) while sitting at an outdoor table at Florean Fortescue's, her mind elsewhere. She saw a few eleven-year-olds strolling the streets, their eyes lit up with excitement as they perused the storefronts, and she smiled. She could remember that first trip; all of the sights and the whirlwind of it all, her mother and father looking just as wide-eyed as she had been, with Petunia equal parts jealous and intrigued. It was one of her favorite memories.

She had met Marlene for the first time, then, when the McKinnons had tentatively stepped towards the awestruck Evanses, wondering if they would kindly redirect the McKinnons towards the wand shop. "We're… oh, Marlene, dear, what's the word? Anywho, we aren't magic or anything like that. And we're _awfully_ lost…" Mrs. McKinnon had explained quickly, and Mrs. Evans had smiled sincerely and explained their own situation. And Marlene had tucked a strand of hair behind her hair, and had shaken Lily's hand quite properly, and the two had been inseparable since.

"Lily Evans, why are you smiling like a pedophile at those children?"

Lily jumped, nearly knocking her ice cream cone to the ground, at the voice that had seated itself (quite rudely) at her table. "Hello, Sirius," she sighed, placing a calming hand over her heart. Then she frowned. "Where's Potter? Or Remus?"

Sirius shook his hair out of his face while waving his hand, as if to ward off her question. "Prongs is off on vacation at the Weasleys' place, and Merlin knows where Remus is. He was supposed to meet me _here_, actually." He gave an exaggerated sigh. "My mates are absolute rubbish at being punctual."

Lily laughed. "Ah, I see, because you are an _expert_ in that right?"

"Why, Miss Evans, do I detect a hint of sarcasm?"

"You might."

"I am shocked."

"I am rather shocking."

They both laughed, and Lily pulled her hair off her slick neck into a loose ponytail. She liked Sirius, really; he was a Marauder, of course, but on the whole he wasn't half bad. Brilliant, witty, sarcastic. He was graced with the Black good looks and he certainly knew it. But she still admired him; he didn't intentionally dumb himself down, which she admired.

"Lily?" he asked suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together nervously.

"Yes?"

"Why do you tolerate me?"

She laughed, until she noticed his more solemn expression. "Sirius, what is this even about?" she asked, confused.

"It's just… I want you to remember why you like me. Promise?"

"Sirius, I -"

Suddenly Remus appeared at their table. "What am I interrupting?"

"Oh, nothing, Moony dear. I was just having a chat with the lovely Miss Evans." Sirius stood and winked at Lily. She waved to them as they left, her mind confused and her heart feeling a little bit heavier.

(One Year Prior – _Sixth Year_)

There had been a fight. It had been ugly.

Sirius had regretted it, of course. The second after he had done it – the instant he saw the look of betrayal on James' face, the moment he heard Remus throw over a table in the hospital wing, the minute Dumbledore had said, "He would be dead if it weren't for James, Sirius. Or a werewolf. And think of what that would have done to Remus, to _you_…"

It had been stupid, silly, vengeful. And it had been brilliant, too, he had thought at the time. It had been perfect.

But it had ruined him, and James, and Remus, and even Peter – little, confused Peter – and he thought he might never have his friends back again.

_He might have died. Or been a werewolf. _

_Think of Remus, Sirius. Think of what that would have done to Remus, to be responsible…_

_Your apology is fucking irrelevant to me, alright?_

_How could you?_

_I'm sorry._

_What if I'd… oh my Merlin, Sirius. _

It had been stupid.

(The First Day)

James used to wonder what life had been like pre-Marauders; how he had spent his days if not with those three boys, running around stirring up all kinds of trouble. He had wondered what _exactly_ life had been meant for without them. What had he been intended for if not to be friends with them?

He was suddenly acutely aware of how life was without them. And it was bloody horrible.

He missed them, he realized, but his mother was bound and determined to make this vacation family-only. The sun was beginning to set over the ocean, and as James perched himself on top of the roof, he admired the view. He then pulled the mirror out of his pocket.

"Sirius Black."

His best friend's face appeared in the glass, with a crooked smile plastered onto it. "Prongs, mate! I thought you were on some anti-Marauders vacation."

James smirked. "I am. Shell Cottage. Bring alcohol. Lots of it."

"Yes sir."

James pocketed the mirror, and an instant later Sirius was seated by his side, Firewhiskey bottle in hand. "I think you may have serious issues if you can't be away from us for an entire day without calling me up."

"Shut up and give me the bottle."

Sirius complied, leaning back on his hands to watch the sun sink below the horizon. The two were quiet for awhile, both of them thinking too much about things they couldn't control (and things they _could _have controlled). James finally broke the silence with a drawn out sigh.

"It should've been Remus."

"Shit, Prongs, you know it couldn't have been."

"But it should've. It would be better if it were Remus. For Lily, for the school…"

Sirius snorted. "For _Lily_? She's just glad it wasn't Snape."

James stared at his best friend. "What?"

She had written all of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects off, and it wasn't Remus, so she was terrified that who she was going to be Head Girl with. _Snape_. Are you not a better option than _him_?"

James sat there for a moment, considering this. He then took a rather large swig of the Firewhiskey. "Do you think Remus'll ever tell her?"

Sirius swallowed. "I don't know. Sometimes I wish he would. She's logical enough to handle it, and she's friends with Remus. But, sometimes…"

"You're worried."

"No, no it's just -"

James smiled at his friend. "Sirius, don't be stupid. Lily's friends with you the same way she is with Remus. Besides, why do you care what she thinks so much?"

"Why do _you_?"

"Oh, Merlin, mate, don't tell me -"

"No, no, not _that_. It's because it's Lily Evans. And… and I believe in you two. Even if you've given up, even if you think she hates you, I don't see it. And when I give my speech at your wedding, I'm going to make sure to mention all of those times you kept me up until 3 in the morning -"

James laughed and punched his arm playfully. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

They laid there until the sun had slinked behind the skyline and the stars had awoken, until the bottle was empty and their eyes refused to stay open. And then Sirius Apparated back to the Leaky Cauldron, and James snuck into his own bedroom at Shell Cottage.

(Two Years Later – _The Wedding_)

"I swore I would do this, and James didn't believe him – bloody prick – so here we are. Lily, I apologize. James, you deserve it." Sirius winked, holding his glass of champagne, and he turned to the small group in front of him and cleared his throat.

"So, James Potter. What a bloke. Handsome, sure, although not quite as much as me, of course; intelligent, but, let's be honest, Lily could beat him any day. James was in love with Lily Evans since the fifth year, and Lily hated him – well, _nah_, she didn't really, but more on that later. James kept me up for nights on end because of this only blasted redhead, and I swear to Merlin I almost strangled him in his sleep because of it."

James laughed, and Lily was hiding her face in her hands. Sirius just kept on going. "But anyway, I'm not going to actually go into the gory details because, let's be honest, you all do _not_ want to hear them. But Lily, James - " They both looked at him, smiling.

"I'm proud of you two. Especially you, James." A wink. "You two survived, you know? You made it. And I love you both, I do, and I'm glad you two ended up together. You are the reason I believe love may still exist. And when you get her knocked up, James, I expect to be the godfather."

James slipped his arm around Lily's shoulders, and Lily rested her head against his own shoulder, and Sirius could've sworn they were born to be like that. James and Lily Potter, the ones who lived, who survived, who were destined to be together. It was like the world had come full circle.

It was the happiest Sirius could remember feeling.

(And More on Lily)

A letter was awaiting her when she arrived home from Diagon Alley in the late evening, after visiting Flourish and Blotts and buying more owl treats. The penmanship on the front was messy and yet vaguely familiar, and with curiosity she broke the seal.

_Ging,_

_I'm a little drunk, and Sirius is here (he says hello) and I don't really know why I'm writing you this letter, to be honest, but I just felt like it needed to be written, you know? Sometimes does it ever feel like you are about to burst with something you need to say and so you say it but then it doesn't turn out the way it should? I worry about that a lot. Sirius says that I'm giving too much away and that maybe I should put the quill down and – okay maybe I will._

_G'night Ginger. _

_James _

Lily smiled and reread the letter, placing it on her bedside table and laughing aloud to herself. She had been reserved about becoming friends with James Potter, but here he was – a few letters in, already making her laugh without intending to.

As she prepared for bed, Lily's mind drifted towards the letters he had sent her, towards his smile and the way he pushed up his glasses on his face. The way he held his wand, awkwardly, because he was trying to look cool. The way he always wanted his hair to look like he'd just jumped off a broom.

And as she turned out the light and pulled the blanket over her face, James was what Lily was thinking about as she fell asleep.

(Darkness, My Friend)

Not too far down the road (the literal one, not the metaphorical one), there was another dark-haired boy who frequently thought of both James Potter and Lily Evans, but in one similar and one different manner. Severus had watched Lily in recent days: the day of the wedding, how beautiful she'd looked in that pale yellow as she'd slipped into her sister's car; both times she'd gone down to their familiar Apparition point, past the old playground they used to frequent. He wondered what she'd been up to this summer. He wondered if she missed him, thought of him.

He'd seen an owl flying to and from her house frequently in recent days, and that night he'd decided to see who it was from. Slipping into the corners of darkness near her house, Severus held the treats he'd purchased above his head, in the light, where the owl could see them. He undid the seal of the letter, letting the owl perch on his arm.

He read it twice through, and then a third, until he wanted to rip it into shreds and set it on fire. A sliver of guilt nagged at his brain, however, so he merely replaced it into the envelope and resealed it with his wand. Severus let the bird rap on Lily's window, and he watched as Mrs. Evans opened it and gave the owl a treat before removing the letter from its beak.

Severus slipped out of the comfortable darkness, into the glaring light of the streetlamps, and he made his way home. Lily was writing to James, then. James Potter.

There was one thing, if nothing else, that James Potter and Severus Snape had in common: that night, one furious and one contemplative, both were thinking of Lily Evans as they fell asleep.

**A/N: Wow, I am truly horrendous. A severe bout of writer's block, personal business, and just being crazy busy made this update **_**atrociously **_**late. I do apologize.**

**Please let me know what you think – this chapter is not my favorite, and I'm a bit concerned about it, so please do read & review. Let me know your thoughts!**

**Next chapter will be updated in a much more timely fashion, I promise. Lots of love!**

**Hannah **


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